


You Can't Leave Me Now

by GwendolynD



Category: Supernatural
Genre: F/M, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-10-03
Updated: 2011-10-03
Packaged: 2017-11-12 22:11:41
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,805
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/496185
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GwendolynD/pseuds/GwendolynD
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam's a virgin, and too nervous around girls to get much of a date, let alone sex. He confides this in confidence to Dean, and what are big brother's for, if not to help their little brother out?</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Can't Leave Me Now

**Title:** You Can't Leave Me Now  
 **Author:** [](http://gwendolynd.livejournal.com/profile)[**gwendolynd**](http://gwendolynd.livejournal.com/)  
 **Genre:** slash,  
 **Characters/Pairing:** Sam/Dean  
 **Rating:** NC-17  
 **Word Count:** ~3,700  
 **Warnings:** implied dub!con, young (16-17ish) Sam  
 **Disclaimer:** Owned by Kripke and company.

 **Summary:**  
Got [this ](http://spn-hardcore.livejournal.com/518906.html?thread=1565434#t1565434)prompt from  [](http://wrathwings.livejournal.com/profile)[**wrathwings**](http://wrathwings.livejournal.com/)    at [](http://spn-hardcore.livejournal.com/profile)[**spn_hardcore**](http://spn-hardcore.livejournal.com/).  
Sam's a virgin, and too nervous around girls to get much of a date, let alone sex. He confides this in confidence to Dean, and what are big brother's for, if not to help their little brother out?

______________  
______________  
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"Dean, outside. Now."  Sam stalked out of the hotel room, leaning against the railing and waiting for the door to click closed behind him before he turned to face his brother.  "Are you insane??"  
   
Dean held his hands up in defense. "Whoa, what’s up, Scrooge?"  
   
Sam scoffed, running one hand through his hair to push it off his face. "Seriously? Are you really asking me <b>why</b> I'm upset about my brother taking an anxiety I shared in <b>private</b> and showing up in our motel with a hooker?!"  
   
"Hey...escort. I want to make sure my baby brother starts off with class..."  
   
"Whatever!! I'm not going back in there, so just...go entertain yourself." Sam turned and started heading down the balcony hallway, blood blushing his cheeks.  
   
Dean grabbed his wrist. "Hey, Sammy, wait. Look, I know this isn't your idea of perfect--I know we're not alike, but you said yourself, you're nervous of performance anxiety."  
   
"How is this supposed to help?!" Sam hissed quietly, eying his brother suspiciously through his bangs.  
   
Dean shoved his hands into his pockets, leaning against the railing himself. "I know it sounds crazy, but I'm actually not trying to be an ass this time. You're going to find someone you'll want to spend time with and...romance or whatever it is you'll do..."  
   
"Oh god, shut up..."  
   
"This way, you won't be awkward and blustery the first time you're with someone you really care about. It's harder to be confident in yourself if you fuck up royally the first time with someone you care about."  
   
Sam examined Dean's profile, realizing that this was coming from something deeper that he had never shared with his little brother. He kept his mouth shut, despite the instinct to nag on him about actually having feelings.  
   
"She won't care if it's awkward, she just...she wants to help you figure you out..." Dean hung his head and shook it, a smile playing on his lips. "Are you going in or not?"  
   
Sam frowned, but he looked at the door none the less and chewed the side of his tongue for a second. Yeah, the idea intrigued him, and the thought that he might be having sex in the incredibly close future was stirring the blood flow to his cock more than he would have liked, here standing in the hallway. Really, it was only that reason that had Sam nod and take a steady step towards the door and twist the door knob.  
   
When the door swung an inch inward though, Sam swallowed heavily as anxiety rose in his chest and he looked back to Dean, who was smiling and sidestepping to walk away. “Dean...?” Sam croaked, heart pounding. “Can you...can you stay?” Sam could barely hear himself, and he was slightly surprised Dean had even heard him—but he must have in the way he stopped in his tracks and turned back to him.  
   
The pounding chant of <i>don’t leave me don’t leave me don’t leave me</i> drowned out any potential to think about what Sam would do if his brother didn’t stay. Dean had always been there when Sam had tried something new—playing soccer, shooting a rifle, his first hunt, his first brutal attempt at stitching a wound in Dean’s chest closed, the first day at a new school...hell he’d even been the one Sam had talked to when he was just discovering masturbation. It shook Sam to the core that he might have to face something so personal without his brother there to support him.  
   
Dean stood beside Sam, right by the door and fixed his gaze on him, steady, sincere and honest. “Sammy...” He didn’t continue, he just clapped a hand on Sam’s shoulder and nodded, pushing the door open wider and stepping in, and Sam found himself following and closing the door.  
   
~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
   
Dean shucked his jacket off onto the chair, pushing it into the corner and trying to settle in an unobtrusive way. He wasn’t sure what Sam expected of him, but he knew that if Sammy wanted him here, he’d be here. If he was completely honest with himself, he was relieved to be able to watch over Sam. Sure, it had been as high class of an escort that he could afford, but that didn’t mean that they were all pure. In fact, now that he thought about it, Dean berated himself for planning to leave his little brother to the hands of someone else. No—he was much happier with this scenario, he just needed to occupy himself while they did their thing.  
   
It wasn’t easy, considering there was maybe five feet separating the chair he sat in and the bed that Sam was sitting awkwardly on with the woman crawling onto his lap. Short of cleaning his guns (that would go over well with an outsider ...well, inside), or pulling out a hunt file, Dean wasn’t sure how else to occupy himself; he settled on slinking low in the padded chair with his legs stretched and crossed at the ankles, pulling his sunglasses over his eyes and settling in to nap.  
   
He should have known better—how the hell was he going to nap with all the sounds the woman was making. Abandoning sleep quickly, Dean tuned in on the girl’s breathing, her voice. It wasn’t hard to make the entire thing an incredibly realistic fantasy, imagining her smacking lips against his skin. Wrapped up in deciphering what she could be doing to <i>him</i> by the audible clues, Dean lost the comprehension that Sam was actually the one on the receiving end.  
   
Dean slid a hand down his thigh to roughly palm his now hard cock through his jeans (after all, her sultry voice had just purred out ‘Lay back baby, I’ll take care of you’), and he swallowed back the grunt of a groan that rose in his throat.  
   
“Ohh, yeah...” Her voice drifted through Dean’s head again, and he had his buttons undone at the slick, wet sound that Dean imagined it being the woman fingering herself.  “Nggh, yeah, right there, Sam.”  
   
Dean’s eyes snapped open, half choking on his own surprise, and sat up, running a quick palm over his face. He didn’t bother trying to button his pants...it wouldn’t work now until he got to the bathroom to finish the job. He didn’t want to move now though, and disrupt Sam’s experience. Dean looked over cautiously, taking in the woman’s naked body straddling Sam, her eyes closed as she did the work, rocking on top of him. She held Sam’s hands to her breasts, encouraging him to feel, and Dean took a deep breath to cool himself down as much as possible.  
   
Just as he was turning to settle back in his chair, reassured that Sam was quite alright, he caught a glimpse of Sam’s face around all the naked limbs moving about. He was ... fuck he was calm. His eyes were trained on the breasts he was holding, and his breathing shallow, but he was by no means blissed out. Not that Dean had much experience with being a voyeur, but instinct told him that this was not going as well for Sammy as either of them had hoped. Which pissed Dean off. Obviously the woman didn’t know what she was doing, and she certainly wasn’t paying attention to Sam. This was not acceptable for his little brother’s first time.  
   
Snaking a glance at the woman’s ID tag, he caught her name and quietly cleared his throat. “Hey, Elle...slow down would you. Sammy...put your hand on her heart, feel her heart racing for you,” he speaks quietly, trying not to break the silence or the mood simultaneously.  His mind rakes for ideas on how to help his brother get a good experience of this—tries thinking of what it is that helps him get rolling if they don’t roll on their own—but it has been a while since he’s had that problem.  
   
Elle doesn’t seem to mind Dean breaking the silence, and in fact she does slow the pace which she’s riding Sam, finally opening her eyes to take a look at what level of pleasure he’s at. Dean waits, wondering if Sam will yell at him to get lost, or if he’ll actually listen to what Dean has to offer. When his hand raises to rest above Elle’s breast over her heart, Dean feels a trill of power crawl down his spine. Testing the waters, Dean speaks again, a little louder this time, “Take your fingers and slide one in her mouth.”  
   
Once more, Dean isn’t sure what the reaction will be, but after a long pause, Dean watches Sam raise his other hand to slide a finger in her mouth, eyes fluttering momentarily as Dean mumbles an approval. Dean needs to press the heel of his palm against his erection in attempts to cool it, but he’s finding that he enjoys seeing Sammy follow orders. It’s when Dean tells him to roll and pinch Elle’s nipples that Dean notices Sam’s eyes are half lidded and <i>focused directly on him.</i> He still follows the order, but the new found lust in his eyes is directed completely at Dean, and hell if Dean can’t stop himself from imagining what it would feel like to have Sam tease <i>his</i> nipples.  
   
He’s getting too involved...too invested and he knows it—this is supposed to be about Sammy and not him but he can’t help the next order falling huskily from his lips that selfishly is about what <i>Dean</i> wants to see. “Finger her ass, Sammy...”  
   
It’s then that Elle glances between the brothers, having stilled her ride to let Sam toy with her breasts, and she catches Sam’s hand, bringing his fingers back to her lips. “Come here, Dean,” she purrs and it’s like she’s humming right against Dean’s cock. He slides carefully out of the chair, eyes trained on Sam as he closes the distance between them. Elle holds Sam’s hand up to Dean’s parted and moist lips, and Dean swallows, glancing between Sam’s fingers and his eyes.  
   
Closing his hands around Sam’s, Dean licks one finger before pulling it into his mouth all the way, and then slowly releasing it again. He doesn’t know what he’s doing, or why, but the look on Sam’s face—the raw need is all Dean cares about at that moment.  
   
“Talk to me?” Sam breathes, and it’s then that it slams into Dean that it was when Dean talked that Sam had looked most out of it—Dean’s voice that was turning Sam on.  
   
Somehow between that moment and Dean sucking on Sam’s fingers before ending up on the bed, Elle had stealthily left the area, and for all Dean knew--or cared--the motel room.  This left Dean stretched alongside his incredibly naked brother and their lips bruising one another in the process of devouring the other.  
   
Dean lost himself in tracing his tongue greedily along the edges of Sam’s lips, one arm bent over and around Sam’s head to prop himself over top of him, and his other hand planted firmly on his chest. He knew that he should be thinking this through some more, that he should be bailing off the bed and demanding Sam get dressed, or for Elle to return. But knowing it, doesn’t mean that he has the strength to comply and Dean only finds himself biting hungrily along the curve of Sam’s neck, the heavy rise and fall of both their chests focusing his senses to just how Sam’s heart was pounding under his touch.  
   
“Dean...” Sam groaned, and Dean couldn’t say whether he ended up collapsed on top of Sam because his arm gave out, or the shiver that rolled around his chest at the sound of his name.  He did know that the tug low in his belly was because the new position on top of Sam, and how it was impossible to hide his erection now that the hard line was pressing right against him—and Sam’s was slotted awkwardly along Dean’s side.    
   
Resting is forehead against Sam’s, Dean pried his lips away from the salty skin, licking his lips and breathing heavily. “What do you want, Sammy?”  
   
Sam’s eyes were looking at Dean, but they were unfocused and half lidded, and it tore into Dean just how gorgeous his brother really was, and how had he not seen it before? When Sam’s hips shifted, and it seemed to push Sam’s cock further against Dean’s shirted side, Sam licked his lips before mumbling. “I don’t know...just....keep talking.”  
   
Dropping his head into the nook of Sam’s shoulder, Dean nodded. “Put your hand in my hair,” he muttered, thinking of how the tug on the hairs always sent a shiver through him, but instead he found a gentle caress and he almost groaned out loud. Shifting so he had one arm free, Dean reached up and folded his hand over Sam’s curling their fingers into his hair to pull. “Like this.”  
   
Sam was so compliant against him, allowing Dean to move his hand just right, and after some experimenting, Dean found that Sam was silently begging to be told what to do. The tired yet wild determination in his eyes reminded Dean of just how much Sammy trusted him, and it was overpowering him with how he easily he could take control but this was his brother... His extremely hot, moaning, and naked brother. <i>Fuck...</i>  
   
Curling his fingers to fist the sheets in attempts to control himself, Dean swallowed carefully before looking Sam in the eyes and speaking again. “This spot here,” he said, trailing one finger to the sensitive skin right behind Sam’s ear—watching the focus slide from his eyes briefly, “can make almost anyone lean into you if you rub it.” To demonstrate, Dean ran his thumb over the skin in slow circles, cupping his hand behind Sam’s neck for support as he coaxed him to sit up. Sam’s eyes had closed, and when Dean pulled his hand away, Sam opened his eyes, blinking as he looked at their new sitting position.  “See?”  
   
“Dean?”  
   
“Yeah?”  
   
“Stop explaining. Just talk.” Sam licked his lips, rubbing his neck while staring at the bedspread. “Like before...” he trailed off.  
   
Dean frowned, tilting his head in thought and when it clicked in, he let out a groan. <i>Before. With Elle—ordering.</i> “Jesus, Sammy...” Dean pressed their foreheads together, pulling solidly at Sam’s neck with his hand to keep him close.  
   
He could feel Sam tense up, and he heard him swallow heavily before he spoke almost inaudibly, “Nevermind, it’s stupid, why would yo—“  
   
“Shut up, Sam,” Dean growled in a low voice, barely registering his brother’s response of ‘okay’ before he crushed their lips together again, breathing deeply to pull the air from Sam’s lungs, wanting to just devour him. Sam moaned, and his hands held tightly to Dean’s shirt, pulling as if to get rid of them. Dean couldn’t control his breathing, let alone having the brain power to even think about refraining from grinding his hips down on top of Sam’s, pulling a broken groan from his. It sent shiver’s along his spine, and only resulted in the need for more friction.  
   
Leaning up so that he was sitting across his brother’s hips instead of laying atop of him, Dean smiled inwardly as Sam honest to god <i>whimpered</i> as the cold air hit his chest, and Dean wanted to tease him badly, but he needed to get rid of these clothes because even though Sam was trembling in the cool air, Dean was sweating. Swallowing around the nerves and anticipation, he pulled at his button down to get at his undershirt. “Sam, pants,” he said, surprised at how strong and gravelly his voice sounded when he felt winded beyond belief.  
   
Sam’s eyes opened and his hands shook as he reached for Dean’s belt, but the determination and certainty in his eyes stopped any thoughts Dean may get about pushing Sam too far. It was different, being in control through verbal commands as opposed to his usual physical control—but this was Sam; he needed to treat his brother differently, to make sure that this first experience was as good as it could get and that Sammy enjoyed it completely. After all, Dean couldn’t be responsible for someone’s disinterest in sex.  
   
It took Dean a while to fall into the role he needed, but the hesitation on giving orders dissolved when he stuttered out, “touch me, Sammy.” The confidence in Sam’s hand wrapping around the base of his cock send a shiver through him that forced him forward onto his hands so he was holding his body up over Sam’s on the bed. “Fuck, Sammy, move,” he demanded, canting his hips down in an effort to push through Sam’s hold, to get movement.  
   
Dean groaned as Sam slid his hand along his shaft, before swiping over his leaking head and back down with a tighter grip than before. Resting his head against Sam’s, Dean panted against the curve of Sam’s neck, rolling his hips with the rhythm and trying to bite back the needy moans that wanted to escape. He was successful, riding on the pleasure and working his hand carefully over Sam’s cock, until Sam did <i>something</i> and sparks pooled around his balls, threatening a quick release. “Ngggh, hold it off Sam,” he barked, the edge in his voice showing how quickly the orgasm was rising.  
   
Sam stopped, and a confused noise indicated a question he was about to ask but Dean didn’t have time for that. “Now!” Dean barked, abandoning his hold to wrap his hand around Sam’s and pinch a tight circle around the base of his cock to stave off the orgasm. He held his breath the best he could, going motionless against Sam, other than the slight tremble rolling over his body. He was pretty sure that if he’d opened his eyes, he still wouldn’t be able to see because everything felt buzzing despite holding off the climax.  
   
When the feeling started to fade, Dean found that his grip had slacked from Sam’s hand, and it was now just Sam’s circle of fingers held tightly around the base of his cock, and Sam’s other hand—it was pumping his own erection. “Oh fuck me...” Dean groaned, clenching his eyes shut again in an attempt to gain some control over himself. He couldn’t – fuck what was he even doing?  
   
“Kay,” Sammy’s voice drawled, and the next thing Dean knew was that he was being toppled to the side and rolled onto his back with his little brother awkwardly moving to sit on his thighs, his hand still tight around Dean’s erection.  
   
Dean’s brain short circuited, blanking for what felt like a minute of being unable to respond as he watched Sam rise up on his knees and knock Dean’s legs apart. Sam released the faux cock ring around Dean’s erection so he could hook his hands under a knee and lift Dean’s legs before he leaned down and kissed Dean. The feel of something cool and firm at his ass was what snapped Dean back into realization. “Sammy, no...I—“ It hadn’t been an order, just a curse and this was all completely uncharted territory for him.  
   
Hurt, fear and panic flashed across Sam’s features, and he was sure he could see Sam stop breathing. “Oh fuck...I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to—“  
   
Dean grabbed Sam’s face in his hands, making sure to keep steady eye contact. No way could he give his brother a fucking anxiety attack during sex. “Not what I meant, Sammy, done this before,” he lied quickly to wipe the panic from Sam’s face. “Jus’ meant we need the lube,” he assured, glancing to the side table, “and you can’t run a race before stretching your muscles out.”  
   
Sam snatched the tube from the table and Dean took it from him, demanding, “Hand.” He pooled the slick into his brother’s hand and the way Sam watched him with complete lust and need in his eyes, Dean was reduced to the basics of talking. “Fingers,” he choked out, and when Sam curled his fingers into a fist to coat them in lube, Dean lifted his hips and repeated the word more firmly. “Fingers!”  
   
A finger pressed hesitantly at Dean’s entrance, and he coaxed Sam further, feeling himself losing control already. “Push.”  
   
Sam’s finger sank past the ring of muscles and Dean gasped loudly, coming hard over his chest and Sam’s. It was a damn embarrassing display of his stamina, but Sam didn’t seem to mind because he was working another finger alongside. “Like this...?”  
   
Dean had no idea, he’d seen porn but had never been brave enough to ask for it after the first girl had slapped him and left him with blue balls. But his Sammy was hanging on every word and every indication, and it didn’t feel <i>wrong</i> so Dean forced out a “yes, more.”  
   
The pressure built, and Dean felt the struggle Sam had trying to find a way to get a third digit into the mix. “No...<i>more</i>,” he emphasized, saving Sam the embarrassment of floundering at this, and besides, Dean’s erection was quickly returning and he was having a harder and harder time from keeping the image of Sam pounding into him from his mind.  
   
Sam’s fingers slid out, Dean groaned in the mix of relief and loss. The cool pressure returned, but Dean knew it was no finger this time. “Do it,” he demanded, almost surprised by the need he had. Sam groaned as he pushed in, inexperience having him bottom out in one thrust instead of a slow decent. Dean cried out for a second, before falling back into a pant to get control back. “You good, Sammy?” Dean checked, trying to focus on Sam’s face through his blurred bliss, and although he could only see the mop of Sam’s hair, he saw the nod. He let his head fall back against the bed and breathed out, “I think...you know the rest...”

 


End file.
